


Reputations and Resident Cops

by reve_silencieux



Series: A Time and a Place for Everything [2]
Category: White Collar
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-05
Updated: 2013-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-11 15:58:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4442039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reve_silencieux/pseuds/reve_silencieux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Right Place, Right Time… Wrong Reason</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reputations and Resident Cops

**Author's Note:**

> This can be read as a standalone (as it was originally written), however I have since realized that it fits nicely into the universe that I started with [An Ocean of Denial](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4437320).

"Ms. Ellis?"

Sara had been watching the throng of well-dressed museum patrons stroll around the newest exhibit with careful regard and a well-worn smile that she hoped masked her boredom. She could appreciate most art, but the abstract pewter sculpture in the middle of the large room left her cold. Even after a ten minute lecture by the curator, she still couldn’t see how it was anything but a mess of interconnected building blocks. She turned her attention to the young man who'd appeared at her side. He was wearing the classic navy suit coat of the security staff, one of several that were milling around keeping an eye on the gallery and the guests.

"Yes?"

The kid was probably still in college, Sara figured, and he looked out of place in the gallery. He was most likely just trying to pick up extra cash, but would rather be back in his dorm playing his X-box or whatever. His face was young, although he was trying to appear older, growing a small goatee that did nothing but bring attention to his baby face. The suit hung poorly on his frame and he looked as uncomfortable wearing it. 

He shifted nervously. "Mr. Martin would like to speak with you in his office."

She raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Is there a problem?"

He hesitated a moment and her heart skipped. Shit. This wasn't good. Everything had been going according to plan. But if the museum's head of security wanted to speak with her, something had happened. She did not need this, not now. Giving up a plum position in London to return to New York had not gained her favors with Sterling Bosch. Since she had proposed a new division with security consulting services, she did not need a botched exhibition opening to ruin everything she had worked for – especially since she was staking her career on it. The fact that she had also hired Neal as a consultant made it even riskier. Not that he would do anything to hurt her career, but it was still her word against theirs. 

As Sara followed him to the back offices, her stomach clenched. What could have happened? She seriously doubted anyone had tried anything, despite Neal’s claims that disappearing in a crowd was a great way to escape. The opening night of an exhibition was hardly the best time for a heist when security was heightened.

Alan Martin was waiting for them outside his office and he looked positively gleeful. Although it was a bit disturbing, she didn’t blame him; she couldn’t imagine sitting and watching security feed for hours on end. When something happened, it was probably the highlight of his day, if not the month or even year. 

“Ms. Ellis, we noticed someone suspicious and I felt it was prudent to detain him,” he declared, looking very proud of himself. 

He obviously took his job way too seriously Sara thought wryly. She wouldn’t be surprised to find out that he had wanted to be a cop but hadn’t been able to cut it. Martin wasn’t especially tall, maybe five foot ten at best. He probably worked out, hoping to bulk up, but either didn’t spend enough time doing so or was genetically predisposed to a skinny frame. The suit fit him better than the poor boy still hovering behind her, however it did nothing but highlight the fact that he was still only a glorified security guard.

“I recognized him right away when he was brought to my attention,” he continued then opened the door and waved her in. “I’m sure you've encountered him yourself in your line of work.”

Sara walked in and found Neal sitting in a chair opposite the large desk taking up most of the small room. He looked up and grinned when he saw her. His hands were cuffed behind his back, but he appeared relaxed and entirely unperturbed at the situation. If it weren’t for his arms, she would have guessed he was another museum patron, the tuxedo fitting him like a glove and putting the cheap suit coat Martin wore to shame.

Unsurprisingly, Neal had attracted the attention of the overly ambitious resident cop, who’d obviously subscribed to Art Thief Monthly and thought he’d made the bust of his career.

“Mr. Caffrey here, is a notorious art thief and–”

_“Alleged art thief!”_

He scowled at Neal. “And forger. He was found loitering around the Impressionist exhibit. Mr. Caffrey was spending quite a bit of time staring at one in particular.”

“It’s a museum! What else am I supposed to do?” Neal looked indignant and gave her a look that screamed _‘can you believe this guy?’_

Sara bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing and faced Martin. “Yes, I’m quite aware of Mr. Caffrey’s reputation. However, I can assure you that his presence is not a problem.”

Martin looked about to object when she held up her hand. “Mr. Caffrey actually works with the FBI.” His eyes bulged and she was sure he was wondering how that was possible when he was stuck working security. It was hardly surprising given what she’d seen of him so far.

Sara knew she could have easily said that Neal worked with her, but she couldn’t help it, she wanted to bring him down a notch or two. She schooled her face and politely explained, “He consults regarding art, fraud, and security.”

Neal straightened up and brightened. “Speaking of which, you might want to look into the camera angle next to the back door. It's a glaring blind spot and anyone could snatch that Sisley next to the door and leave without you knowing better."

Martin sputtered and Sara glared at Neal. _“Not now!”_ she mouthed at him. He shrugged and smiled at her unabashed.

“I find it hard to believe the FBI would employ a known thief."

“I was only convicted of bond forgery,” he pointed out with a tilt of the head. “And normally I have an ID with me, but seeing as I came as a guest tonight, I don’t have it on me. Sorry!” Neal pasted an innocent smile on his face and Sara nearly snorted, clamping a hand over her mouth.

The poor man looked like he was about to have a stroke. He stalked towards Neal and towered over him. “Excuse me? A guest! That’s not possible. Tonight’s exhibit is for members and special donors of the museum.”

Sara sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “As much as it pains me to admit it, Mr. Caffrey is with me.” 

Neal frowned and looked offended at her statement while Martin spun around and gaped at her. “What?”

Crossing her arms over her chest, she nodded at Neal. “He’s my husband.”

He glanced between the two, a pained expression on his face. “You’re married to him?”

“Unfortunately,” she replied dryly.

Neal brought his left hand up and waved, his wedding ring visible and a handcuff dangling off his wrist. Martin glowered at him. Neal had the decency to act chagrined and snuck his hand back.

Sara shook her head, silently laughing. “If there’s nothing else, Mr. Martin, I’ll take Neal off your hands now. I promise you he will not cause you any more trouble tonight.”

Martin visibly deflated, but nodded at the same time. He had no more moves to play.

Neal stood up, grinning, and handed the cuffs back to Martin, who took them grudgingly, but still eyed him with distrust. Sara grabbed him by the elbow and dragged him out of the office behind her.

Once the door closed after them, she dropped her hand and hissed at him. “I cannot take you anywhere!”

“Hey!” He held up his hands in protest. “I didn’t do anything wrong!”

She rolled her eyes and rested her hands on her hips. “For once. But just being you is enough apparently. I don’t want you out of my sight for the rest of the night. If I have to, I’ll borrow Martin’s handcuffs and make sure of it.”

He smirked and wiggled his eyebrows. “Oh, public bondage, I like the sound of that!” Sara glared at him and he laughed, wrapping his arms around her waist, tugging her close and leaned down to kiss her. She relaxed as his fingers gently traced patterns against the bare skin of her back, and dipped slightly below the edge of her dress.

A few seconds later he paused and pulled away. “Hey, you’re not ashamed of me, are you? I mean, you did marry me.”

Sara stepped back, exasperated, but she couldn’t help but smile. She loved him even though there were times he acted like an overgrown kid. It was sometimes hard for her to believe that she was married to Neal Caffrey, but she wouldn’t change it for anything. “No, I’m not. You annoy me some days, but I’m not ashamed to be married to you.” He beamed and she turned and started back towards the gallery.

Neal quickly caught up with her and reached for her hand, rubbing his thumb over her ring finger. They were nearly at the gallery entrance when he casually remarked, “I suppose now wouldn’t be a good time to tell them that I think their Manet is a forgery?”

Sara stopped abruptly and closed her eyes. She counted to ten then opened them and glanced at Neal. He smiled sheepishly and squeezed her hand.

“Sorry.”


End file.
